Stay of Execution

40

When he opened the door, he was wearing an apron emblazoned with a naked, voluptuous female form, its breasts cupped in two large hands that appeared to come from behind.

Maggie laughed. ‘Who the hell gave you that?’ she exclaimed.

‘Technically, my three-year-old nephew, last Christmas, but actually it was my sister-in-law.’

‘And you wear it?’

‘Of course I do. . but never outdoors,’ he added, taking her overnight bag from her and following her up the short stairway into his hall. She had been there once before, briefly, when she had called in on him after shopping at the nearby Cameron Toll shopping centre.

‘Nice day at the office?’ he asked her, as she hung her hat on the stand in the corner.

‘Entertaining. I didn’t have anything to do really; Brian was in charge, and it all went fine. But please, let me get out of this uniform.’

Stevie showed the way upstairs, carrying her bag and depositing it on his bed. He leaned over her and kissed her softly. ‘Make yourself at home.’

She grinned, and began to unbutton her jacket. ‘I can do that,’ she murmured. She nodded towards the open door of the en suite. ‘Can I have a shower as well?’

‘You do that too; there’s plenty of towels. I have to get back to the sauce.’

‘Oh, Stevie,’ Maggie called after him as he turned to leave, ‘there is just one thing, I sort of forgot to mention before. I’m not on the pill or anything. I don’t think it’s a high-risk time, but. .’

His smile dazzled her. ‘I thought about that,’ he replied. ‘Worry not.’

She undressed, arranging her uniform on a hanger she found in his wardrobe, then stepped into the bathroom. As the warm jets of the power shower pulsed over her, she found herself wondering whether she had ever felt so relaxed before.

He was stirring a large pot when she came into the big kitchen, concentrating so hard that he did not hear her as she came up behind him, her hair still damp, dressed in a sweatshirt, jeans and moccasins. She slipped her arms round his waist, pressing her unfettered breasts against his back. ‘Can I do anything?’ she asked.

‘You’re doing it,’ he told her. ‘I’m just about finished here; I’ll give it an hour to cook gently then I’ll do some rice. Go on through to the living room and put on some music; I’ll be there in a minute or two.’

When he joined her, there was a CD on the player that, although it was his, he failed to recognise. ‘What’s that?’ he asked, trying to pin down the guitar riff.

‘Blue City: Ry Cooder. He’s one of my heroes, but I’ve never heard of that one.’

He located it in his mental filing cabinet. ‘Ah, yes, that one. It’s an obscure movie soundtrack album from the eighties, very good, only nobody went to the movie.’ He slid down beside her on the couch and handed her a glass of white wine. ‘What did you think of the game, then?’ he asked her.

‘I didn’t watch it; I was being professional, and watching the crowd. I gather the result was as predicted, though.’

‘Yeah,’ he sighed, ‘we’ll never beat those guys.’

‘That’s what Mario always says. I saw him at Murrayfield, by the way; he gave me a blessing and a warning at the same time.’

Stevie’s mouth fell open. ‘You mean you told him?’

‘Of course not. D’you think I walked up to him in my chief super’s uniform and said, “Guess what? Stevie made me come and you never could”? Mind you,’ she mused, ‘I might as well have done. Mario can read me like a book. I’m sure he knew just from looking at me that something of that nature had happened.’

‘What was the warning?’

‘I think he told me not to trust you too much. I sort of told him that he didn’t trust people enough.’

Stevie nudged her with his shoulder. ‘You can, you know. Trust me, I mean.’

She kissed him. ‘I wouldn’t be here if I had any doubt about that, love.’

‘Say that again?’

‘What?’

‘That word you just said.’

‘Love?’

‘That’s the one. Did you mean it or was it just a casual familiarity, like?’

She put her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her, feeling the dampness of her russet-coloured hair through his T-SHIRT. ‘I think I did. But what I feel most of all is comfort in a way I never have till now. It’s taken me completely by surprise, and I can’t tell you how good it feels, how good you make me feel.’

‘You ready to tell me your story yet?’

‘No,’ she whispered, ‘the time’s not right. Let me enjoy this.’

‘Whatever it is,’ he told her, ‘you needn’t be afraid. There is nothing you could tell me about you that would make the slightest difference to the way I feel about you.’

‘What? Not even my sex change?’

‘They’ve made a bloody good job of it,’ he murmured into her hair, ‘that’s all I can say, sir.’

She exploded into a laughter that was more natural and spontaneous than he had ever heard from her. He felt her shaking against him and he joined her in it, hugging her to him as Ry Cooder played a tender tune.

‘I love your house, Stevie,’ said Maggie, when they were both still once more. ‘It’s got real character.’

‘Yeah, hasn’t it? It’s just a house, though: it’s what happens within its walls that’s really important.’

‘I agree.’ She kissed him again. ‘I wish we could take tomorrow off work.’

‘Me too; of all the bloody days, though. You making your debut as the big boss of Torphichen Place, and me being sized up by Mary Chambers.’

‘Mary’s already sized you up; she asked me about you on Friday.’

‘What did you tell her?’

She shrugged. ‘Aw, you know, that you were a solid, dependable plodder; a real Sunday Post reader who thinks that there truly is a Francis Gay.’

‘But there is,’ he protested. ‘He rides shotgun on Santa’s sleigh.’

‘That’s good. Mary’ll be pleased to hear that, her being gay as well. If you really want to know what I told her, I said that she should let you run things for as long as it takes for her to get to know all the troops and to familiarise herself with the territory. That’s what she plans to do.’

‘Nice to know. I’ve had a word with Regan, by the way. I’ve told him that the first time I hear a gay joke in the office he’ll be singing soprano. Actually,’ he continued, ‘I’ve got an outing planned for her tomorrow. I forgot to tell you, but I had a call earlier from Mrs Whetstone. She wants me to go and talk to her son tomorrow; explain to him personally what’s happened. I thought I should take the new boss along, just in case there’s any follow-up from the fiscal’s office.’

Maggie patted his chest. ‘Good thinking, Stevie boy,’ she said. ‘If there are any more waves to be made in that investigation, I wouldn’t want them to splash on my new uniform.’ She slid a hand under his shirt. ‘And talking about making waves,’ she murmured, ‘how long have we got till that curry’s ready?’

He grinned and slid an arm round her. ‘As long as we need, love. As long as we need.’